


ars fortuna

by glass_icarus



Category: Wild Adapter
Genre: Chromatic Character, Chromatic Source, Chromatic Source Creator, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-17
Updated: 2008-09-17
Packaged: 2017-10-14 08:38:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/147406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glass_icarus/pseuds/glass_icarus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tonight is the night that I will fall for you over again. Kubota and Tokito, a mixtape.</p>
            </blockquote>





	ars fortuna

**Author's Note:**

  * For [inksheddings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inksheddings/gifts).



> Written for inksheddings for Round 1 of the Salty Dog Stories exchange. Translations for the section names courtesy of the University of Notre Dame's Latin Dictionary and Grammar Aid. Er. Apologies to anyone who's actually studied Latin!

**antequam: before**

Kubota lounges indolently on the bed, staring at his new charge. He's never had a cat like this before. It fascinates him.

"Mmph." The stray's brow wrinkles as he squirms. It's... cute. Kubota chuckles, astounded at his own thoughts.

"Hey. Are you waking up?" He traces a curious line over the protruding ribs. The cat scowls and rolls over, right on top of him. "Oof!" Kubota makes a grab for his ashtray, stubbing out his cigarette before it makes contact with the pale skin. He smooths away the dark hair clouding his vision, peering down at the sleeping features. "Guess not."

His cat is surprisingly heavy, for a scrawny-looking thing. Kubota remembers carrying him home, slung over one shoulder like a sack of potatoes. No wonder the neighbors' kid gave him such a funny look. _Ah well. It's not like Shouta-kun could tell anyone important about it._ The sound of the sheet slipping to the floor draws Kubota out of his thoughts.

"... You know, I did have things to do today aside from looking like a pervert," Kubota says conversationally. He ignores the tiny flutter in the pit of his stomach in favor of settling in for a comfortable nap. "Just for the record, this one's all your fault."

 

 **feritas: wildness, savageness**

He wakes up with a throbbing headache in an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar room, in an unfamiliar apartment. For a moment, Tokito panics, hands fisting in the white linens. _Run. Have to run._

The door opens. Tokito looks up, eyes narrowed. The man before him smiles, eyes crinkling behind the glint of his glasses. "Ah, you're awake." Tokito's fingers uncurl slowly—the smell of fresh cigarette smoke is inexplicably disarming.

"Who the hell are you?" _For that matter, who the hell am I?_

"I made some corn soup if you want it," the man continues cheerfully. "You look like you need it."

"..." Tokito scowls.

"Oh—and you might want to do something about—" Long elegant fingers wave in a general southerly direction. Tokito jerks and blushes furiously, snatching the sheet to cover himself.

"What the fuck am I doing naked?! Where is this place?"

"Your pants were dirty, so I washed them. Don't worry, I didn't do anything other than clean you up a bit. Here."

Snatching the pants from the man's outstretched hand, Tokito dresses hurriedly. The pounding in his head returns. _Run. Run._ The urge is beyond instinct, beyond fear. "Get out of my way."

The man adjusts his glasses, raising an eyebrow. "Going somewhere?"

"Away!" Tokito shouts, and dashes out, looking over his shoulder for faces he can't remember.

If he'd known he'd only end up right back where he started, though, he probably wouldn't have made the effort in the first place.

 

 **audentia: boldness, courage**

When his uncle delivers the copies of the W.A. files, Kubota tucks them away in an envelope. After all, he's read the reports already: six bodies discovered, all of them changed and mutilated. He doesn't want to think of his cat that way; Tokito is too alive, burns too brightly with it for Kubota to face the possibility of his future. He keeps the attached pictures face-down after the first read-through.

After discovering them, though, Tokito flips the pictures over again and stares at them, unwavering. "Don't hide things from me," he says, body coiled tensely beside Kubota on the couch. "I want to know."

"Little cat-"

"It's about me, isn't it?" He turns to the next page. "I don't want to look away. I want to know more about myself, even if it's not good, even if I don't have long."

Kubota closes his fingers about Tokito's wrist, at the edge of the glove. "What if _I_ don't want to see you like that?" He toys with the leather, unable to meet Tokito's eyes. "I don't want you to end up like them."

Tokito leans forward and peers into his face. "I don't want to end up like that either, but Kubo-chan? I want you to see me, no matter what."

"..." Kubota swallows. _I can't. Don't ask me—_

"Please," says Tokito, and that, Kubota thinks, is that.

 

 **lemures: ghosts, phantoms**

 _Minoru. Minoru..._

"...!" Tokito sits bolt upright, heart pounding. He can't remember the dream, only the mindless fear that overwhelmed him. The vague images slip through his grasp yet again—a pair of hands, a man's silhouette? He gives up, sighing.

Kubota is still asleep, a silent warmth at his back. It'd be nice if he was awake, Tokito thinks, disgruntled, but it has been several months, and Kubota must be used to his nightmares by now. Or maybe he's just too tired to be disturbed. He rolls over to sprawl across Kubota's chest, tucking his head beneath Kubota's chin. "Kubo-chan?" he tries.

Kubota merely twitches and sighs into his ear. Tokito flexes his fingers involuntarily; five pinpricks of blood well up on Kubota's bicep. "Sorry," he whispers, but there is no response. He puts his ear to Kubota's chest, times his breathing to Kubota's until the adrenaline dissipates, exhaling the fear into the air around them. Slowly, the cold sweat evaporates from his skin under their combined body heat; slowly, Tokito's muscles uncoil, until he settles into the curve of Kubota's body, tangling their legs together.

"Kubo-chan..." _You always save me._ "Thanks."

After a while, the sound of the steady heartbeat beneath his ear lulls him back to sleep.

 

 **avaritia: avarice, greed**

Kubota likes to indulge Tokito, to give him things that catch his interest. New games, new foods, festivals and fireworks—Tokito likes them all. Kasai always grins and says he's spoiling the kid, and Kubota always laughs. It's really a form of self-gratification, this game of finding new things to try, because the excited sparkle in Tokito's eyes just never gets old.

One afternoon, when Tokito drags him out to see the casino arcades, Kubota sees a familiar face in the crowd. He stops walking for a moment, searching for the man's name. _Shuji, was it?_ A low-level thug, still, it seems—no one particularly important. A little like Komiya, carelessly kind, just another one of the Izumo youth group members who used to follow him. Shuji smiles at him a little, open, genuine, and Kubota nearly smiles back.

How strange. It seems his cat has changed him more than he's realized.

But when Tokito turns around, impatiently tugging at his sleeve, and Shuji's eyes flicker in his direction, Kubota goes cold.

"Oi." Tokito waves a gloved hand in front of his face. "Something wrong?"

"Ah, it's nothing. Can you give me a minute? I need to go to the bathroom."

Tokito grimaces impatiently. "Fine, fine, but hurry up, okay?"

"Hai, hai," he says absently, reaching for the inside pocket of his coat.

The silencer he has is very good, from one of Kou's contacts. The sound of the slots machines completely drowns out the shot, and by the time people take notice of the blood and brains spattered across the console, Kubota has already faded into the crowd.

"That was fast," Tokito says, surprised.

Kubota smiles and takes his hand. "There wasn't much of a line. Where are we headed? I'm all yours." He laughs and sidesteps Tokito's fist. _Sorry, Shuji, but there's no one I won't kill to keep him with me. Nothing personal, you understand._

 

 **bestia: beast**

Tokito turns on the shower, the cold sting of the water distracting him just enough to take the edge off the pain. He stares at his hand, the furry claw-tipped fingers, and wonders, not for the first time, why he isn't just another corpse the cops have found in the streets.

"Tokito?" Kubota says from the hallway.

"Yeah..." He grits his teeth as another jolt runs down through the tendons, the muscles of his palm and fingers cramping in response. "Ah!" Immediately he bites his lip, furious at the involuntary sound.

"... I'm coming in."

"No, don't—!" The door opens. "KUBO-CHAN!"

"Here." Kubota holds out a towel, turning off the tap. Tokito hunches over instinctively, cradling his arm against his belly. "It's nothing I haven't seen before, you know."

"Pervert," Tokito grumbles weakly.

"Yes, probably." Kubota smiles and sits down, wrapping the towel around his shoulders. "It's okay to hold on to something when it hurts, little cat. Whatever you need, okay?"

Tokito ducks his head, face warm. "... Whatever." He tenses as the next bolt runs red-hot down his arm, ashamed at his inability to hide it, but this time Kubota curls around him tightly enough to comfort. So Tokito hides his face in Kubota's neck, gnaws on his collarbone, leaves bruises on his biceps, and when the tears come, as they inevitably do, both of them pretend that he's still wet from the shower.

 

 **desiderium: wish, longing; want, need**

He's always been searching for something, for that elusive spark that Tokito has in spades, but there's been something else recently, a nameless churning in his gut that Kubota is at a loss to explain.

"What do I do?" he asks one afternoon, after another discreet delivery. Kou blinks at him, surprised; Kubota's never been one to volunteer personal information.

"Pardon?"

Kubota shrugs, a little less nonchalantly than usual.

"Is it about Tokito's condition?"

"No, I'd let you know if it was." Kubota reaches into his pocket, unwrapping a gumball and rolling it thoughtfully between his fingers. "It's about Tokito, though. I guess. Sort of."

Kou raises an eyebrow delicately. "Sit." Kubota obeys as he puts the kettle on for tea. "May I ask why you've come to me about these…inquiries?"

"Well, I could hardly ask my uncle Kasai. Besides, I trust your discretion."

"A politic answer." Kou props his chin on his hand. "I was under the impression that you had some experience in these matters-"

"Anna," Kubota nods.

"Ah. But you aren't uninformed, about the other side of things?"

"No. There were people in Izumo…I was aware of their inclinations." Kubota pops the gumball into his mouth, chewing. It's pomegranate-flavored, completely different from the taste of Lotte's. "It's not that part of it that I don't understand."

Kou looks at him patiently, shaking fresh leaves into the teapot.

"It can be unsettling, to be around him. Physically and otherwise." His mouth quirks. "Well, and he calls me a pervert."

Kou has to stifle an uncharacteristic snort.

"I feel different, around him. More…something. Maybe just _more_." Kubota laces his fingers behind his head. "I just don't know what it is, what it adds up to."

"And when you're not with him?"

The gum snaps against Kubota's teeth. He wipes the sticky residue from his lower lip, slowly. "... Or maybe I do," he says. "Thanks, Kou-san."

Kou smiles. "Anytime."

Kubota pushes away from the table, tossing his gumball wrapper in the waste basket. "I trust you won't mention this to Tokito?" he says over his shoulder.

"Of course not." The door closes behind him. Kou shakes his head and goes to pour his tea, flipping the sign to "Closed." The day has certainly been full of surprises, and he's not sure he can deal with another one.

 

 **femina: woman**

"Kubo-chan, you're SO going to pay for this," Tokito mutters, rapping loudly on the door and trying desperately to tune out the proprietor's—doorman's— _whoever's_ babble about new customer specials and discounts. He stuffs the Kyan Kyan Cherry business card in his pocket.

Anna blinks at him, confused. "Tokito? What are you doing here?"

"You didn't pick up your phone!" Tokito snaps. _First woman,_ indeed. He shuts the door in the man's face and looks around the room warily. "Where's Kubo-chan?"

"Huh? He's not with you?"

"He told me not to go back to the apartment, and now I don't know where he is!"

Anna sighs. "Well, I don't either. It's too late for him to help me, anyway."

"He didn't talk to you at all?" Tokito eyes her suspiciously.

"No. I tried calling a few times yesterday, but he didn't pick up. I thought he was out." She sits down on the bed, shirt falling open. Tokito looks away.

"... Huh."

"She was into drugs, my friend Rika... taking them, even selling them for the yakuza. That's why I called Makoto for help, but- she was murdered two days ago. It's been all over the news recently."

"Oh." Tokito rubs the back of his neck uncomfortably. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault. Rika, she always made her own decisions, didn't like advice. I guess it was too late for her already." Anna sighs. "So. What can I do for you, since you've come all the way here?"

"I'm just looking for Kubo-chan. I don't want anything else." He pushes her hands away firmly. "You really don't know where he is?"

"No, I don't." She cocks her head. "Makoto... he belongs to himself, you know? He's always gone his own way."

Tokito rolls his eyes. "I _know_ that already. Why do you think I came here to look for him? But… whatever belongs to Kubo-chan also belongs to me. We'll go wherever we like together."

Anna looks at him for a long moment. "Of course," she says quietly. "I see now... of course it had to be you."

"Huh? I don't get it!"

Anna stands, bare legs unfolding beneath the shirt. "I'm sorry I can't help you. I'll save your phone number in case you need me, okay?"

Tokito blinks. "Uh, thanks. Don't bother, though...I accidentally broke mine the other day. Just try to pick up next time." He glances out the window, judging the drop, then climbs out of it, making his escape with relief.

 

 **veritas: truth**

Tokito is waiting at the door of the police department when he gets out. Kubota smiles inwardly.

 _Clever cat._

"Oi, Kubo-chan. Let's go home, okay?"

"Home..." Kubota says, tasting the word in his mouth. Tokito tugs at his sleeve, and Kubota follows him down the street.

"Hey, look! It's snowing!"

"Mm." He watches Tokito's face, eyes bright and happy.

"I'd forgotten, it's almost the new year already. Hey, Kubo-chan, what are we doing for the new year?"

Kubota stops, tugging at the hood of Tokito's sweatshirt. Tokito looks up, confused. "What?"

He struggles with words for a moment, then settles for dropping his head against Tokito's shoulder. "Nothing. Just...it's okay, to be like this?"

He can feel Tokito's blush climbing up his neck. "Uh. I guess so." Kubota smiles.

"Really?"

Tokito's hands come up, fisting in his coat. "Idiot."

"Hmm." Kubota presses his nose to Tokito's neck, then licks his ear.

"AGH!" Tokito recoils, clapping a hand to his head. "What the fuck?!"

Kubota blinks at him innocently. "You said it was okay." He watches with amusement as Tokito's face grows redder and redder, waiting for the imminent explosion, and then ducks in quickly for a kiss. "It _is_ okay, isn't it?"

For once, his cat is entirely speechless.

 

 **maneo: to remain, to last, to stay/stay the night**

Tokito wakes up exceedingly grumpy in the morning, squirming in Kubota's arms. Kubota merely tightens his grasp. "Oi! Will you let go already?"

"Hmm," Kubota says, pretending to consider it. "Nope. Sorry." He buries his face in Tokito's neck, pressing close against his back. Tokito can feel the blush turn incandescent as one hand slides slowly down his belly.

"NGK-"

"Still want me to let go?"

"P-Pervert!"

Kubota allows himself a slow, self-satisfied smile. After all, it's a beautiful day.


End file.
